


Poor Pet

by morrezela



Series: Cupid's Pet [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Abduction, Assault, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Body Modification, Demigods, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Lubrication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:56:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Dirty Valentine": Jensen has been kicked out, and is a very lonely pet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poor Pet

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine, so not mine. The people mentioned in here? I wish them all the best in their personal and professional lives and hope that they make many, many more movies and TV Shows. May I never set eyes on either of them, and may they continue in their marital bliss. (For this fic in particular, I remind you that I certainly don't see either actor this way in real life.)
> 
> Ain’t a drop of this that is real.
> 
> Warnings: No Redeeming Value! This is NOT my normal type fic, so please read the warnings:
> 
>  
> 
> Mentions of barebacking, implied mind fuckery, abduction, marking/tattooing, collaring, D/s, Pet type scenario, dub-con bordering on non-con in a weird, biology inspired way, notnecessarilygood!Jared, and dirty talk with a side of mystical happenings and modified body functions. AKA complete and utter kink without much reality or redeeming value beyond, well, smut.
> 
> A/N: This is a sequel to Dirty Valentine and was written for Day Eight of my 12 Days of Christmas meme.

The smell of stale beer almost makes Jensen gag as he helps clean out the storeroom, but it’s better than being out there tending bar. When that couple came in with all their friends, he had almost lost it. They’d been doting on each other, picture perfect in love. They had reeked of cupid magic.

Jensen scrubs extra hard at the dark stain on the floor. It will not be coming out. It has been there forever, the lasting legacy of a very cheap bottle of port that wasn’t even mopped up until it had completely evaporated. It’s never coming clean, just like Jensen will never be able to scrub Jared from his veins.

He isn’t going to cry about it. No, he got over that about a month after Chad dropped him off with two hundred dollar bills and a lead on a flea bitten, death trap apartment. The last thing that the guy had done was take Jensen’s collar, Jensen’s tags away from him. Jensen just wasn’t good enough for Jared anymore. His cupid had found himself a better pet, a tame one.

Fucking bastard hadn’t even seen fit to tell Jensen himself. One moment Jensen is sitting at home like a good pet waiting for Master’s return, the next Master’s cupid buddy is coming into their room and gathering up Jensen’s things, gathering up Jensen. Jared sent Chad to tell Jensen that he wasn’t wanted anymore.

Those first couple of weeks alone, Jensen had wanted to die. He didn’t know what he had done that was so awful. Jared had always seemed to enjoy taming him. Certainly he had voiced opinions far stronger than any of his tame counterparts, but Jared had always said that it made him stronger.

But Jared had been lying to him. All those nights where he had suckled and taken Jared inside of him had been for nothing. Jared had used him and lied to him, taking him places and doting on him like a beloved pet when he was really just waiting for the right domesticated bitch to come along.

Just thinking about it makes Jensen feel melancholy. He misses his master, misses his collar and his nice, warm place in his master’s bed. Some days he wakes up craving the weight of his master’s overly endowed cock on his tongue, the warm saltiness of his master’s come as it rushes into his gullet.

But Jensen can’t have that anymore. He has been cast aside, a used up pet that has misbehaved to the point of no longer being wanted. Chad had been the one to throw him away. Master hadn’t even retained enough affection for him to come and say goodbye.

Jensen doesn’t like to think about how he was forced to his knees in that dirty alleyway when he refused to let Chad take his collar away. If he thinks about it too long, he can still feel the bruises that the hard, wet cement left on his aching knees. He can still taste his own tears. Everything had been taken away.

No matter how many times Jensen has reminded himself that he never wanted to be Master’s pet in the first place, those lies never make reality easier to bear. He knows that he used to be able to wait tables and be content if not happy. Jensen never lived in the lap of luxury before. He could learn to live like the normal people again.

But his body refuses to listen to him. He wants to sit on Jared’s lap again, Master’s cock shoved up his tight, aching hole. He wants to be a good, loved pet who takes care of his master’s sexual needs. He wants to be praised and petted and given pretty collars and taken places so that he can help Master bring love into the world.

The need is biological. Jensen keeps telling himself that. It’s just his body. But no amount of slickness in his ass makes him crave Jared’s approval along with his cock. Jensen’s very instincts want that, and it terrifies him to need his master on such an emotional level. Jensen can live without sex, but the need to be with his master is starting to eat away at his morale.

He is moping, pining, yearning for somebody that won’t come take him home. Food is disinteresting to him, which is good because he barely makes enough money at the bar to pay for his rat hole of an apartment. His diet has been shot to hell. Greasy fries and whatever happens to be leftover in the kitchen at the end of the night make up his daily meals.

Jared used to buy him special food. The best cuts of steak and freshly caught seafood decorated his dinner plates. Even his coffee was specially blended to his tastes, roasted just for him because Master loved him and wanted him to have the very best. He said that the expression on Jensen’s face when his coffee was just right made him happy and hard. And Jensen loved it when Master was hard. Jensen’s hole would start slicking itself and his own cock would fill with blood. His nipples would stiffen just so, and sometimes, sometimes they would…

“Johnson! Get your skinny ass out here and tend the fucking bar! I need my break!”

Jensen shakes himself and heads out to the main area of the bar. It is quiet, a Tuesday night with not much going on. The regular bartender, Chuck, is glowering at him. There is no way on earth that he is just going outside to get a nicotine fix, and Jensen takes a moment to loathe his current situation more.

At least before Jared took him, Jensen had been working in a nice establishment. Maybe he’d been going nowhere, but it had been nice. Now he is stuck in a hellhole of a place with no immediate ability to move upwards.

“Jackass,” Jensen mumbles under his breath as Chuck stalks away. That turns out to be a mistake.

The last time that Jensen was assaulted in a parking lot, he woke up with a couple of brands and a new master. This time he comes to in an ambulance feeling like his head is about to explode. Pissing of an addict is one of Jensen’s less intelligent life choices.

Everything hurts, everything. He can’t answer the EMT’s questions, can’t focus in on what is being asked He thinks he might’ve said that he is allergic to lipstick. It’s all very painful and very bright, and as he loses consciousness, he hopes that he won’t wake back up.

The next time Jensen wakes up, he knows that he is on painkillers. Everything is all muted and nice. But he also suspects that he is on something strong enough to make him hallucinate. Otherwise hospitals have started outfitting their rooms with way nicer stuff.

“He’s underweight, bruised, but otherwise fine. It could’ve been worse,” a vaguely familiar voice floats through the dark cherry wood door to Jensen’s room. He should recognize the voice from somewhere.

“No I’m not going to punish him! Pets run away sometimes. It happens, I… I’m not sending him to training classes. Jensen is too a good pet! He most certainly is not! No, Chad. I’m not discussing this anymore. Goodbye.”

The door opens a crack, and Jensen can only stare blearily at it. Whoever is on the other side must be surprised to see him awake because a gasp echoes in the room seconds before the door swings all the way open.

“You’re awake,” Jared says.

“Master,” Jensen slurs the word, but he knows it comes out needy and pathetic even without the pronunciation issues.

Jared’s face crumples a bit as he strides over to the bed that Jensen is resting on. Nothing about his powerful aura has changed; he still looks perfect not a glossy, soft hair out of place.

“Poor pet,” he says as he perches on the edge of Jensen’s bed, “look what those bastards did to your pretty face.”

Jensen tries to pull away, shamed at how clear it is that his appearance is now repulsive as well. His master is showing him sympathy, and he doesn’t want it. Either he is Jared’s good boy, or he isn’t. But Jensen refuses to be a charity case.

The action hurts even through the haze of medication, but Jared laughs. “Still so stubborn, Pretty One.”

Jensen’s tries not to be obvious as he sneaks a peek back at Jared, but he knows that he fails at his attempt at subtlety. His master threw him away and then bemoaned the loss of his remaining beauty, those two facts conflict with the title of ‘Pretty One.’

“The maids will be in shortly,” Jared says. “They’re going to be bringing you some milk, and I expect you to drink it all. The calcium will be good for your bones.”

The ache of confusion joins the cacophony going on in Jensen’s head as he outright stares. “Milk?” he slurs.

“Whole milk,” Jared confirms with a nod. “You’ve lost too much weight. Look at these poor hip bones,” he says as he tugs the elastic waistband of Jensen’s pants down, “they’re too sharp and pointy.”

Jensen flushes and tries to squirm away from the touch. He hates the flush of embarrassment that comes almost as much as the instinctive rush of lust that wells at the feeling of Jared’s fingers on his skin.

“Shhhh,” Jared instantly soothes as his fingers travel from the jut of Jensen’s bone to stroke over the family seal that still rests on his skin.

Jensen’s cock tries to fill with blood at the touch, still trying to please his master even though he is in more pain than he’d like to even think about.

“Oh, poor pet,” Jared repeats again. “Don’t you worry. Master will be taking good care of that when you get better. Can’t leave these unattended, now can I?” Jared asks as his fingers dip lower to cradle Jensen’s overly full balls.

Jensen hisses at the touch. His balls have always been sensitive, but they became even more responsive when he was claimed by his master. They grew larger, fuller, and it’s been torture to be without constant release. But trying to be with other people has been impossible; Jensen’s body shuts down at the mere thought of giving his master’s property to another. And touching himself has been perfunctory at best. It has been bringing up memories best left behind.

“Oh,” Jared sounds delighted as he manipulates the heavy and tender sack, “you’ve been a very good boy for Master, haven’t you? These are very full, pet.”

Jensen doesn’t know what’s going on anymore, he can’t piece anything together. His body is starting to ride on sex endorphins and his pain is fading away as Jared rolls his balls in his hand. It feels fantastic and wonderful and before he can even savor the experience of his master groping him, he’s pulsing heavy, slick come out of his half hard cock, soaking down his sweatpants and spattering his belly and thighs with his mess.

“There,” Jared sounds self-satisfied as he gives Jensen’s cock a gentle, affectionate pat. Then he tugs Jensen’s pants the rest of the way off, leaving his come wet skin exposed to the air. “I’ll have to clean you up before the maids come,” Jared says, “can’t have them looking at what is mine.”

“Yours?” Jensen asks. He hates the coil of hope in his belly, but those words sound a lot like…

“Of course, you’re mine, silly pet,” Jared admonishes. “My marks are on your skin, and my collar will be back on your neck once it isn’t so horribly bruised. And this time, I’m going to get you chipped like all good pet owners should. Can’t have my boy getting lost out there again, now can I?”

Jensen wants to argue, wants to protest and point out where his master is wrong, but he doesn’t. He’s getting sleepy, and Master is Master again. Soon he’ll be taking Jensen home and pampering him again. Soon Jensen will be on his hands and knees with Master’s large cock up his ass.

The details can wait until later. Right now Jensen needs a nap.


End file.
